After the Fall(60)
Randegund shrieked with laughter.
“Get you gone, old woman,” he bellowed to his mother. “You are the poison in our midst. Magnus never was.”
Athaulf forced Gigi out of Verica’s tent.
“Let me go, Athaulf! I need a horse — I have to help Magnus!”
He shook his head. “It is no woman’s job. I’ll send men after him at dawn.”
“Take your hands off me! I refuse to sit around and do nothing like you all did when he went looking for me in Constantinople,” Gigi raged. “I swear I’m going to Ravenna, right now, whether you help me or not, whether you think I can or not.”
Athaulf stared hard at her for several moments, then shrugged and let her go. “So be it. I’ll see you have a fast horse and provisions. Wear the clothes you’ll need and leave the rest behind. Take the weapons I gave Magnus, and may God give you strength, because you will surely have need of them before this is over.” He paused and looked even more closely at her. “Never allow Honorius to take you. It will go far better for both of you if you take your own life instead, for he will not kill you outright, but will torture you in each other’s presence, you may be sure, so that your agonies and his delight are compounded.”
Gigi bowed her head, horrified by his words, knowing they were true. “Please send Placidia to me while I get ready. I want to see her before I leave.”
Athaulf nodded and Gigi raced to her tent. She threw on her warmest clothes, pulling on her heavy boots just as Placidia rushed in.
“Gigi!”
In tears, they hugged for a long moment. Finally, Gigi pulled away and looked at her friend. “Placidia, I have to go.”
“Gigi, dearest Gigi,” she cried. “You are so strong — so unafraid — I know you will save Magnus! Meet us at the villa as soon as … I pray God … I pray He grants you success.”
Gigi kissed Placidia’s brow, then slung her flute and short blade over her head, and grabbed Magnus’s sword and dagger. She could hear the horse moving about outside and hurried from the tent.
Athaulf held the steed, and Gigi slipped Magnus’s weapons into their straps, then jumped into the saddle. Placidia followed her out, looking stricken. Gigi’s eyes welled, but she blinked her tears away, fighting for control.
“Gigi, your saddlebags are full of provisions. You must go by way of the Via Appia,” Athaulf said, “then the Via Flaminia.”
“I’m going to follow Magnus, wherever they’re headed.”
“And I’m telling you this is the route they’ll take. There will be markers along the way, so you’ll know.”
She listened impatiently as Athaulf gave more travel advice, then handed her a pouch of coins. As soon as he let go of the bridle, she blew a kiss to Placidia and turned her horse, urging it toward the edge of camp and the road north.
One obstacle remained before she could pick up speed: a steep, boulder-strewn rise. Gigi allowed her mount to find his way up, knowing a clear path lay just over the crest. Once there, she’d be able to dig in her heels. For the moment, however, she had to keep herself from slipping over his rump. Damn, she thought, what I wouldn’t give for a pair of stirrups.
A flash came out of nowhere, a bolt of fire, blinding her and causing the horse to lurch, hurtling her into the air. She hit the ground hard, the jolt making her vision blur, making it impossible to breathe.
Trying in vain to roll over and get her bearings, her limbs barely responded. She heard a familiar cackle, then looked around to see Randegund pick up the torch she’d flung. She hovered over Gigi with a sneer.
Gigi still couldn’t move, stunned, certain she was about to die.
“I’ll not have her polluted blood on my hands,” Randegund whispered to herself, kneading her chest. “No, but I will take her blessed protection away from her, something her despicable flesh is not worthy to wear.”
The world spun crazily. Gigi felt helpless as Randegund wrenched off her Roman ring, gathered her skirts, and then ran, her gleeful cackles echoing off the boulders. Gigi squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, fighting vertigo. She caught torchlight flickering in the distance, but then it winked out, Randegund gone.
Head swimming, Gigi struggled to her knees and tried to make sense of her immediate surroundings. It was so dark. The horse snorted close by, waiting for its rider.
“Good boy,” Gigi mumbled, and put a hand on a rock, forcing herself to her feet, gulping oxygen into her lungs. Staggering, she made her way to the horse and clutched his reins, then slowly, painfully, climbed onto a boulder and pulled herself into the saddle.